


honey, honey (the way that you kiss me goodnight)

by longboyzone



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Based on an ABBA Song, Established Relationship, Fluff, Goddess Tower Meeting, M/M, Minor Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Minor Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Mutual Pining, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), minor hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longboyzone/pseuds/longboyzone
Summary: It is the night of the Ethereal Moon Ball, and Dimitri nervously awaits his chance to meet with a certain someone in the Goddess Tower.Believing in the Tower's legend and dizzied with love, he makes quite a lofty wish, and desperately hopes it comes true.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 129





	honey, honey (the way that you kiss me goodnight)

**Author's Note:**

> hiya!
> 
> im back again w another one of these fluffy one-shots that are like, way too long lol.
> 
> so, im an avid ABBA fan and felt rly inspired to write a fic based on one of their songs. this one's based off of honey, honey (obvi lol) and i left some little lyric easter eggs in the fic bc i thought it was cute :) i might do more based on other songs in the future!!
> 
> ha anyway, enjoy! also, check me out on [twitter](https://twitter.com/postirrer) @postirrer if u wanna chat about dimiclaude w me! (ive posted some dmcl art of my own on there too hehe!)
> 
> oh, and minor content warning, hence the t rating: minor alcohol use, and a hint of spice towards the end ;)

Dimitri was awfully, indescribably anxious.

Hands gripped tight around a goblet of watered-down red wine, he gulped thickly in his choked throat. His body felt alight with tendrils of nervous flame, which lapped fervently at his feet and flushed his skin a soft pink. He felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time.

It was the night of the Ball, and all students at Garreg Mach were excitedly nervous as the night’s festivities were set to unfold. Seemingly everyone had some preconception of what was to occur at such an event. As classes of students at the Officers Academy came and went, as did scandalous stories surrounding the Ball, from years past or present. Whether it was students getting far too drunk, faculty making absolute fools of themselves, or couples engaging in romantic escapades much too inappropriate for the setting, everyone had heard enough gossip to know _something_ was bound to happen in the event’s scant hours. It was only a matter of exactly what that something would be.

Admittedly, Dimitri was not immune to the draw of gossip and teenage excitement either. The thing was, he was more prone to being far too anxious about such happenings, rather than embracing them with open arms, like someone like Sylvain would. Instead, he was currently awaiting the bated events of the night all alone, lingering around the outskirts of the ballroom like a phantom, watching students mill about and chat giddily with one another. From this distance, Dimitri could keep watch, and maintain a safe arms-length from his name being included in said gossip that was surely bound to form.

And, thanks to this lonesome spot alongside gilded walls, Dimtri could easily see all of his fellow Blue Lions among the thriving crowds. He could point out Ingrid as she talked calmly with Annette and Mercedes, the latter women picking at her makeup and hairstyle, likely touching up the masterpiece they’d made of the poor blonde. Not far away from the trio was Sylvain, arms relaxed above his head, unabashedly flirting with Dorothea who’d likely been roped into conversing with him. Felix was not far from the redhead, unsurprisingly, and was all alone and glowering at the glee of those around him.

Near the tables donning refreshments, Dimitri could see both Ashe and Dedue. Dimitri had been quite successful in prying Dedue away from his side for the time being, with the strict order of: “ _please, Dedue, enjoy yourself for just one night_.” This request was met with reluctance at first, but was now likely appreciated, if Dimitri could tell from the slight, but genuine grin from Dedue as he listened warmly to whatever animated story Ashe was telling.

Seeing his dearest friends look so happy warmed Dimitri’s heart, but he still felt the spiraling of nerves dance within his stomach.

See, not unlike many within the ballroom, Dimitri kept a small inkling of hope that he’d end up having a very specific sort of _something_ happening tonight. Not anything too defamatory, of course, as he had a reputation to maintain and being seen in a compromising position was far from what he had in mind.

Rather, Dimitri was hopeful in matters concerning the heart. Matters of youthful romance, fleeting passion, puppy love. The Goddess Tower, and all the rose-colored quintessence associated.

And, goodness, how incredibly unlike himself! When he’d first heard about the Ball, Dimitri had sworn he would be far too concerned with his goal of revenge than to meddle with the petty, childish habits characteristic of the evening. He was the Prince of Faerghus, after all, and a childhood education on etiquette and expectations left him absolutely no room for lovey-dovey mush and naive crushes on his classmates.

But, oh, how wrong he’d been. How incredibly, horribly, wrong.

Because, even when alone with himself, completely separated from his peers, Dimitri found himself hopelessly drawn to a certain someone. A certain someone, a certain picture of all he’d feigned indifference to, all the childish, naive nonsense a proper Prince should think to pay no mind.

This new feeling enthralled him, thrilled him, left him dizzy. He knew he shouldn’t, really; he knew focusing too much on such would leave gaps in his plans and ambitions, would interfere with his strict training regime, would render him soft in places where he should be stone cold. Each moment spent hopelessly fantasizing over tender kisses and touches were minutes essentially wasted, especially in the eyes of the ghosts that still pleaded for revenge.

But, _Goddess_ , as blue eyes caught the flair of a golden cape across the ballroom, the ghosts and their demands seemed absolutely minuscule to Dimitri. For now, nothing truly mattered besides that golden cape and the equally golden skin that glimmered alongside it.

He was lean, slender, and only a few inches shorter than Dimitri. He had unruly chocolate hair that dipped and flowed in wave-like tresses sprouting from his crown, with select strands twisted into a thin braid that fell just beside his face. He had gorgeous green eyes, akin to the glowing forest floor, and a charming grin with white teeth that made pearls feel insecure.

His name was Claude von Riegan. And Dimitri reckoned he’d just about fallen in love with him by now.

Dimitri sighed, slid his back along a nearby wall, and started reminiscing. He had met Claude as House Leaders and as figureheads: The Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, of the Blue Lions, and the future Sovereign Duke of the Leicester Alliance, of the Golden Deer. A mouthful, really, only titles and formalities. Initially, their interactions were barren: only light banter from Claude and polite stuffiness from Dimitri.

But, as the moons bore on, the two got closer and closer, until some undercurrent of attraction whirled Dimitri into a riptide of emotion. He’d slowly come to appreciate all of Claude’s little quirks: the teasing lilt of his voice, his inherent genius, his unwavering charm, the way he lodged his lip in his teeth when focused, the list went on. He was physically attractive too, of course, any student in Garreg Much would say the same, with his thin, fit frame and golden, glowing skin. But it was Claude’s _everything_ , really, that spurred Dimitri senseless and plunged him headfirst into the first real crush of his life.

Truly, it seemed the Goddess was everlasting in Dimitri’s favor when Claude finally requited his feelings.

Despite all the risks involved with fraternizing with the “enemy,” Dimitri and Claude fell smoothly into a delicate, youthful romance. They shared gentle kisses in the shadows, lingering touches in the moonlight, and love-laced words in the quiet of solitude. It was soft, naive, and a sole comfort in the seemingly ceaseless perils they encountered at the Officer’s Academy.

They became Dimitri and Claude, in their own little world, rather than the future King and Duke, heirs of Fódlan. It was new and it was wonderful, and the last few months have been made just a tad easier through Claude and his companionship.

Hence Dimitri’s nerves regarding the Goddess Tower scenario. The tale went that any couple who met up on the Goddess Tower on the night of the Ball could have any wish granted, while also likely being forever bound together by fate. Perhaps he’d developed a taste for superstition as a side-effect of growing up Faerghan, but he couldn’t help the nervous bit of anticipation he’d built up for tonight. Truly, all would be fine had he no mind for romance at the moment, but no, that was not the case, so worry he must.

Dimitri wrung his hands, cracked his knuckles, and took a deep breath. He sipped at the wine in his grip, hoping that the supposed “liquid courage” would at least sate his nerves a little bit.

But, it was quickly for naught, because Dimitri saw Claude von Riegan, in all of his glimmering, golden glory, marching through the crowds towards Dimitri’s own spot along the walls. In Dimitri’s eyes, everything surrounding the brunet seemed to just melt away into nothingness, leaving just Claude, his golden sun.

“Ah, there you are, Your Princeliness,” Claude chirped, sidling up beside Dimitri, his classic charming smile on full display. “I was wondering where you’d run off to.”

“Hello, Claude,” Dimitri greeted in return, praying the sweat pooled along his brow was hardly of notice.

But, it was almost instantaneous, the way Dimitri’s shoulders relaxed upon seeing Claude and hearing his honey-sweet voice. Not unlike taking the first, warm sip of a steaming cup of Chamomile, Dimitri supposed.

“What are you doing over here all by yourself? Not a big party kind of guy?” Claude gave Dimitri a lopsided grin.

“I suppose not,” Dimitri sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I am rather bored of dancing.”

Claude softly chuckled. “Oh, believe me, I feel the same. Sorry, but I think I’d rather walk barefoot in Aillel than have to do the whole “dance with nobles to introduce myself” thing again.”

“I can hardly blame you,” Dimitri said, and glanced over at straight-backed couples that danced stiffly in the ballroom’s center. “I rather like it over here, there’s certainly less means of having my feet stepped on.”

“Yeah, really. I think I’ve got a couple bruises of my own forming already. Who would’ve known that something so stuffy like dancing could be so dangerous? I swear, I learn something new at Garreg Mach every day.” Claude laughed. “Makes me think they should have a course on dancing like they do combat at the training grounds. Had I taken that, maybe I would be less exhausted than I am right now.”

“Hm, maybe then I’d actually see you at the training grounds,” Dimitri teased lightly, grinning at Claude’s sudden, indignant huff. “Unlike the usual,” Dimitri continued, “where it seems your time is solely allotted for reading books in the library until you pass out among their pages.”

“Ah, you got me there,” Claude relinquished, snapping his fingers loudly, still smiling. “But I also seem to recall finding a certain handsome blond prince passed out right there beside me. Can’t say you were deep into training then too, huh?"

Dimitri blushed and hid an incredulous grin behind his hand. “I couldn’t just leave you there! What a lousy partner I would have been, even if it meant failing to arrive at the training grounds on time.”

“Loosen up, Dima. You’re allowed to skip out on that strict training schedule of yours every now and then,” Claude grinned, all cat-like. “Especially if it means I get to spend more time with you.”

“Oh, Claude, you know I am devoted to you,” Dimitri sighed, feeling his eyebrows knit together. “Regardless of whatever my training demands of me.”

Claude’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, his mouth forming a small “ _o_.” He then shyly smiled, rocked on his hip, and looked down at the floor. He visibly swallowed before speaking. “Then, uh, care to indulge me for a second? I think the courtyards outside are calling my name.”

Dimitri looked around briefly, took a short breath, and smiled kindly at Claude. Once affirmed they were safe from prying eyes, Dimitri gently placed a loving hand on Claude’s shoulder. “I would love to.”

“Great,” Claude‘s face brightened, and the two went off together towards the courtyards. With every step, Dimitri felt his nervous anticipation bubble and bubble until it just about toppled him over.

-

Dimitri was not entirely sure of what it was that led them here.

Only an hour ago, Claude had asked Dimitri to go outside, which did not imply anything beyond just that. But, drawn by something far beyond themselves, the two boys ended up standing beside one another, leaning against the stone sill of one of the Goddess Tower’s many windows. Perhaps there was an ulterior force, a divine energy flowing in the undergrowth, that dragged their feet away from the ballroom and up the tower. Perhaps it was the Goddess herself, her playful fingers waltzing Dimitri and Claude towards her tower like puppets upon strings.

Well, it didn’t really matter either way to Dimitri. Whether it was ethereal doing or not, he certainly found no complaints with his current position right by Claude’s side. His nerves still lingered, definitely, but there was something so enchanting about the way Claude’s eyes glinted in the starlight that made all of his worries melt far, far away into the night.

They had been making pleasant conversation upon their arrival, Claude joking lightly about the superstitious importance of their appearance at the tower, and Dimitri smiling along. He didn’t want Claude to think him silly for thinking seriously about such things, so he refrained from arguing. Still, Dimitri couldn’t exactly shake the other-worldly feeling the tower oozed, and this feeling dripped its way into his heart, rendering him often speechless in Claude’s heavenly glow. There, just for a moment, all seemed right in the world.

“And so I said, ‘It’s now or never, Hilda,’ and I guess that kinda clicked something in her mind, because the next thing I know, I see her finally asking Marianne to dance,” Claude beamed. “It took a bit of pushing on my end, but, man, I’ve never seen Hilda smile so big in my life. It was crazy.”

Dimitri was pulled from his pondering with Claude’s voice, realizing that the brunet had been telling him a story for quite some time. “She must really like her, then,” Dimitri soon replied, softly.

“Oh, believe me, I had that figured out quite some time ago. If you’d asked Hilda, she would have denied it until her face turned all tomato-like, but she’s not hard to read once you know her well.” Claude mused. “She’s got it bad for that girl.”

Dimitri smiled. He didn’t know Hilda very well, nothing much beyond the fact that she was Claude’s best friend and a bit of a schemer herself. But, despite this, Dimitri couldn’t help but feel happy for the pink-haired noble, in that she was able to find someone to cling to at the monastery. Which was something they had in common, Dimitri supposed. “How lovely. I am happy for them, truly. It is a wonderful thing to see, friends finally admitting their feelings for one another.”

Claude snorted. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you? Maybe I should step in for Sylvain and Felix, since I was so successful with Hilda and Marianne.”

“Claude, please don’t. I would prefer not to have to dote on you from your bedside in the infirmary. You know how Felix is.”

“I’m only joking, Mitya,” Claude giggled, looking up at Dimitri’s serious expression under thick, dark eyelashes. “I think I’d be dead by Felix’s blade before he’d even admit to having any romantic feelings at all.”

Dimitri hummed, smiling idly. “If you say so.”

Claude only lightly chuckled and returned his gaze to the stars. Dimitri followed. It was a cloudless night, the indigo sky an inky expanse above them. It was so clear, in fact, that the stars were splayed out over the sky’s canvas like thrown paint, little flecks of pale pigment splattered as if the Goddess had simply flicked the fibers of a wet brush. Dimitri was suddenly reminded of a conversation they had long ago, even before they’d started romancing.

“Can you tell me about the stars again?”

Claude paused, then huffed out a laugh, grinning fondly. “I can’t tell if you actually want to know, or if you just like hearing me talk.”

“A bit of both, perhaps,” Dimitri smiled. He then leaned his head on Claude’s shoulder, despite the minor height difference. In turn, Claude looped a gentle arm around Dimitri’s waist, and petted small, soothing circles into his side. From this crooked angle, Dimitri looked again towards the night sky, and discerned a row of three stars, with one large one on the end, and two smaller stars just below the row. He pointed at the cluster. “That’s a constellation up there, correct?”

Claude squinted, eyes trailing after Dimitri’s finger. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s Fódlan’s Ladle. Kinda looks like a spoon, yeah?” Claude then rested his head against Dimitri’s, and continued softly rubbing random patterns into his side. “It’s one of the most recognizable constellations, especially during wintertime when the Blue Sea Star is away. It’s name is super old, and comes from long before Faerghus had even split from the Empire. Makes sense it’d be the first you’d pick.”

Dimitri remained silent, a mellow expression on his face. He hoped that Claude would keep talking, as he tended to do when Dimitri simply asked for stories and information while listening eagerly, quietly.

At that, Claude seemed to take the hint. “...I also know that, uh, Almyra has a whole different way of looking at this one, too. Instead of seeing a ladle, they see a walking stick, with one hand gripping the top. When the stars move from east to west overnight, they like to think the stick is helping other stars migrate as well. More religious families think of the stick as helping the star god move dead loved ones across the sky so they can watch the living from above. It’s, uh, quite nice.”

Dimitri paused and considered Claude’s words. _His_ dead loved ones remained with him, on the ground. They were ghosts, rather, that haunted him persistently, demanding revenge and making Dimitri cower in fear when alone and distraught. He wondered if that would have been the case had he grown up Almyran; if, instead, they had been confined to the sky, peaceful up above with only the guidance of the star god and his trusted walking stick.

“What about that one, there? The one that sort of resembles a person?” Dimitri asked, pointing away from the ladle, towards a faint junction of stars that, if connected by line, would look like a hastily drawn stick figure.

“Oh that? That’s Sothis’ Stars, which is said to be the Goddess’ personal constellation,” Claude replied. “Technically, the Goddess embodies all stars, but because people in Fódlan like her so much, she got a single constellation named after her as well. Kinda defeats the purpose, but, hey, it’s not for me to decide.”

Claude stopped speaking for a moment, and silence filled the air.

“...And what do the Almyrans think?” Dimitri quietly asked.

Claude pulled away and looked at Dimitri, his eyebrows knitted together. For a second, he looked trapped, like a feeble lamb with its leg clamped in bloodied steel, eyes wide and trembling. But he recovered quickly, running his free hand through his tangled curls and laughing a bit too loudly. Dimitri decided not to prod any further.

“Ah, you’re lucky I read a big ol’ book about Almyran culture recently, or I’d be looking _preeeetty_ dumb right about now.” He coughed. “Uh, anyway, I read that the Almyrans see this one in relation to a goddess as well, although, obviously, not _The_ Goddess.”

“And? What’s she like?”

“She’s the goddess of love, I think,” Claude said, nearly a whisper. He put his head back down beside Dimitri’s, their hair entangling in winding ribbons of blond and brune. “She’s got some sort of legend not too dissimilar to the story with the Goddess Tower, you know. Supposedly, on nights where she is especially visible, lovers can pray upon her and be blessed with strength and longevity in their relationship.”

It was quiet after that. Dimitri hummed, and slid his left arm around Claude’s waist, their arms weaving around one another like crossroads. And they stood there, letting legends of love seep through their pores and level their blood with hope. Hope in the love they shared, the love they felt, the love they’d receive in the future. Dimitri was warmed by it all, and felt his nerves surrounding the Goddess Tower morph into something beautiful but oh, so scarce: true, genuine hope.

“Claude?”

“Yes, Dimitri?”

“Would you like to pray to the Goddess with me?”

A pause.

“...Which one?”

“It doesn’t matter to me.”

A gentle laugh from Claude. “I’m not super religious, but sure. Just don’t expect a proper sermon from me, alright?”

“I promise you do not have to do that,” Dimitri giggled, the small chuckle lightening his voice. “Just think of a wish, or something you want. You do not even have to say it out loud.”

“Isn’t that like, the number one rule of wishes anyway?” Claude teased.

“Claude, please,” Dimitri admonished, though he could not keep the good humor from his tone. Claude was just so charming and funny, even when he was being a bit more sarcastic and bothersome than Dimitri liked.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet,” Claude dramatically sighed, bumping Dimitri’s hip with his own. “Even if it pains me to do so.”

Dimitri snorted softly, fondly, then closed his eyes.

The wish, then. Yes, _that_. What exactly did Dimitri wish for? Were there any limits to what he could wish? Did he have to make the exact same wish as Claude for it to even work? Could they even talk about it afterwards? There were so many unknowns and missing holes in the fated tale of the Goddess Tower. Even then, what if the tale wasn’t true? What if the Goddess had no jurisdiction in wishes? Could she even do such a thing in the first place?

What if it were up to the Almyran goddess instead?

Dimitri’s mind buzzed with questions, and he hadn’t even begun to think of his own desires. What did he even want from love? He thought he had far more than he deserved already, what with Claude and all the love he has so graciously given. All Dimitri wanted was right beside him, glowing gold and as quiet as the hesitant winter breeze.

Dimitri permitted himself to be a tad selfish, then. Really, he wanted this courtship with Claude to last much longer, at least until they graduate. He knew that once they grew into their inherited titles, they could no longer kindle this adolescent love, as it would likely foster a political disaster. Logically, he knew that. His finely-tuned, perfect, princely mind knew that, his childhood friends knew that, his ghosts knew that, and Dimitri could assume Claude even knew that.

But, what if? Goodness, Dimitri really was being selfish now, thinking of himself over his country. But what if, in a perfect world, he could have Claude and nothing would shatter in return?

Dimitri could picture it now, a beautiful moment, the two of them lounging about among tangled blankets and sheets, absolutely nothing between them but loving words, kisses, and touches. No needy nobles knocking on their doors, no ghosts clouding Dimitri’s mind, no servants, no crests, no crowns. No obligations but pressing kisses to sensitive skin, relishing in each other’s doting touch.

Claude, under a mountain of bedspread, entirely bare, his tanned skin glowing radiant gold in the brilliant morning light that filtered in through barely parted curtains. A grin on his face, tugging lips along smile lines, eyes sparkling with nothing but pure love, happiness, and glee. His unruly hair made all the more wild from bedhead, his braid unraveling as Dimitri moved his tender fingers through silky ringlets and tresses. Claude’s own warm hands tracing lines along Dimitri’s tattered, burned, and torn skin, loving each discolored scar entirely, making Dimitri feel gradually less like a monster, and more like a human actually deserving of his attention and care.

It was all so, so nice.

And _there_ , that was it. Dimitri’s wish. A life with Claude. Boldly unrealistic and unattainable, but considered in all seriousness nevertheless. A lovely, lovely wish.

Dimitri then slowly opened his eyes to see Claude looking right back at him, amusement present in his quirked lips.

“Man, that was a big smile. Just what were you thinking about, my prince?”

Dimitri playfully quirked an eyebrow at Claude. “Wasn’t it you that said it is forbidden to discuss our wishes?”

Claude clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, turning so his body was fully facing Dimitri. “I guess you’re right. Though, I really wish I could know what made you, of all people, smile _that_ wide.”

Dimitri decided to rival Claude’s teasing, hopeful in making the archer blush. “Well, it was you, silly. Who else?”

And blush Claude did, his skin flushing a pleasant, bright color, something akin to vibrant rosewood. “Ugh! Quiet, Dimitri, or the Goddess’ll think you’re breaking the rules. What did I tell you earlier?” Though falsely chiding Dimitri, Claude couldn’t hide the giggle that infiltrated his lilting voice. He even lightly punched the taller boy’s shoulder.

Dimitri then felt surprisingly spontaneous, likely spurred on by Claude’s persistent cheekiness and the afterglow of his wish. Boldly, he wrapped his arms around Claude’s narrow waist, and hoisted him up off the ground with ease. Claude let out a high-pitched squeak, one that mixed in adorably with his sudden, unrestrained laughter that Dimitri successfully squeezed from his chest. Dimitri then began to twirl in place.

“Dimitri - _hah!_ \- put me down!”

Dimitri was dizzy with it, not just from the spinning, but from all the love he had bubbling up from within. He giggled along with Claude, loud and unbridled in the rare way only the brunet heard, and leaned forward to press his forehead to Claude’s.

Claude then snaked one of his arms across the back of Dimitri’s shoulders, and moved the other to cradle the back of Dimitri’s head. His fingers toyed with the cropped blond hair there, and, at the same time, kept Dimitri’s head in place. Their laughter fizzled out, and the air was quickly replaced by their happy, panting sighs and blissed-out grins. Blue eyes met green, and they just stared, only for a still, gentle moment, smiles dripping with love.

“You absolutely thrill me, Claude,” Dimitri admitted, all in one breath.

Claude shook his head fondly, amusement dancing across his features. “Let me feel it, then.”

Dimitri’s heart thundered tremendously in his chest, the adrenaline of the moment electrifying his skin. “Okay,” he whispered, and pressed his lips to Claude’s.

Claude made a pleased noise in his throat, and tightened his grip on both Dimitri‘s shoulders and his hair. Their mouths were flushed firmly against one another for a few moments longer, before they both pulled away with an audible smack. Claude’s breath was hot against Dimitri’s lips, which ignited a blazing flame within his core. Their eyes met, and flickered between keeping eye contact and glancing at the other’s parted, panting lips.

Dimitri moved his mouth once again to Claude’s, lips plush in an open-mouthed kiss. They moved in tandem with one another, pushing and pulling, ebbing and flowing like the tide. Claude’s fingers weaved through the short strands of hair on the back of Dimitri’s head, and Dimitri groaned softly when Claude gave a barely-there tug. His arms, still hoisting Claude up in the air, tightened around the brunet’s waist and rear, which made Claude melt and wrap his own legs taut around Dimitri’s body in turn.

They looked a bit ridiculous, perhaps, kissing filthily like unruly, rebellious teenagers in one of the monastery’s most sacred locations. Had anyone else been around to see them, gossip and rumors would likely explode and overrun Garreg Mach, until all anyone could seem to talk about was the Crown Prince’s tongue caught slipping into the Riegan hier’s open mouth. They were lucky to be shielded in the sanctuary of the Goddess Tower’s stone walls, then, where no one else could hear them but each other.

And what a delight _that_ was, being the only one privy to Claude’s gorgeous panting and blissed-out sighs.

Claude’s legs wrung even tighter around Dimitri’s torso, his booted ankles crossing on the small of Dimitri’s back. The brunet ran his tongue along Dimitri’s bottom lip, then began pressing wet kisses to Dimitri’s mouth. He peppered these kisses affectionately all over Dimitri’s lips, then started trailing down along the blond’s jaw.

Claude removed his hand from Dimitri’s shoulder, then unclasped the first two buttons on his tall collar. He nimbly pulled the fabric down, revealing the snowy white column of Dimitri’s neck.

“Claude,” Dimitri quietly pleaded, suddenly feeling incredibly unsure. They’d done this before, surely, and have even gone a tad further. Though, they’d always been in the relative privacy of their dorm rooms, in the darkest hours of the night when all but them were asleep.

Claude hummed, but continued to drift his devoted lips over the expanse of Dimitri’s pale neck, finally resting on a spot just above the dip of his collar bone. The brunet then began to mouth at Dimitri’s throat, initially worrying parted-lipped kisses into the skin there, before lapping his tongue and suckling lightly. Dimitri’s brows furrowed, and he let out a whine at the new, paralyzing contact. His skin felt like it was buzzing, his heart pounding hard and fast enough in his chest to the point that he was sure it’d burst.

Just as Claude grazed his teeth over the now purpling love bite he’d made of Dimitri’s skin, the prince reached up to push lightly on his shoulder.

Claude instantly peeled away from Dimitri’s throat to make eye contact, worry painting his features. Even in the dim lighting of the Goddess Tower, Claude’s eyes were still that miraculous shade of green, his beauty all the more accentuated by the flush of his cheeks and the shine of his slightly swollen lips.

“What’s wrong? You wanna stop?”

“Uh, yes, I mean...no,” Dimitri paused, feeling his face heat uncomfortably, “I… don’t know.” He was much too overwhelmed to think all of a sudden, and moved to set Claude down to the stone floor. The archer continued to look at him with a questioning, concerned expression.

“Not feeling it? That’s okay, no problem.” Claude then softly smiled, pulling back a bit more.

“I’m sorry, Claude, it’s just,” Dimitri paused, taking in a quick breath, “...it’s a bit much right now.” Dimitri’s anxiety flickered throughout his body, making his throat constrict and his fingers tremble. It was infuriating, how his nerves rose to the surface in moments he should be most comfortable, like in Claude’s tender embrace.

“Dimitri, that’s alright,” Claude said, voice as soothing as a plush blanket in winter. “We can just talk, watch the stars, whatever. I don’t care what we do as long as I’m with you.”

Dimitri felt dizzy again. Not with anything unpleasant, no, but with pure love, the love he had for Claude. Beautiful, patient, understanding Claude. Goodness, the things Dimitri would do for him, the wars he’d fight over and over again just to see Claude smile.

“Thank you, beloved,” was all Dimitri could manage, mouth dry, lips quirked upward in a small, fond smile. “Thank you so much.”

Claude only grinned, eyes crinkling with adoration, and patted the small of Dimitri’s back. His hand guided the both of them back to their original spot by the windowsill, where Claude rested his arms to stare back out at the night sky.

Dimitri hesitantly slung his own arm around Claude’s shoulders, which made the archer let out a contented sigh as he snuggled further into Dimitri’s side. Claude then retreated one arm off the sill and moved it around Dimitri’s waist, once again pampering the blond with the comfort of his slender fingers tracing absentminded patterns into his side.

With Claude’s small bit of help, Dimitri began to properly breathe again, now able to draw in slow, even breaths, and release them gently into the chilled winter wind. They remained silent and still for minutes more, the only sound between them the barely-there whistle of Dimitri’s breathing and the quiet shift of fabric under Claude’s circling touch.

“Better now?” Claude softly asked, voice as gentle as the midsummer breeze.

“Yes,” Dimitri sighed. He looked around the monastery, and noticed its new, foreign stillness. The once lit windows of the entrance hall were now dark and dead, and the faint cry of brass instruments no longer rang out across the grounds. All seemed asleep, like the party had up and gone to bed itself, much like the staff and students did. “It’s rather late, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve stayed up a bit too late,” Claude laughed, patting Dimitri’s side. “You’re not worried about curfew, are you?”

“No-” Dimitri started, then jumped. A loud banging suddenly sounded out from the wooden door enclosing the Tower’s sole room, making both Claude and Dimitri nearly startle straight out of their skin. Their arms were quick to retreat back to their owners, and Dimitri instinctively stepped out in front of Claude, shielding the archer from the assailant with his broad form.

“Hello?” Dimitri called into the night, quickly adopting the brave, knightly persona he tried to embody in battle. His hand then shifted to rest atop the scabbard he kept strung to his uniform belt. “Who goes there?”

The door was quick to open, finally revealing a shadowy figure clad in a black and gray ensemble.

“Teach?” Claude yelped from behind Dimitri.

Sure enough, the Professor quietly stepped inside the room’s center, their pale, expressionless visage especially haunting in the moonlight. They looked like a spectre; a real-life ghost story meant to scare away students from coupling at the scared tower.

“What are you doing here? It’s late.”

Dimitri turned around to exchange a nervous glance with Claude. What _were_ they doing there? Besides, of course, doing all the incredible, inappropriate things two heirs of opposing nations _shouldn’t_ be doing.

The damning evidence was on the table; they were two teenage boys, all alone in an empty room, nothing to do but look at the stars. Dimitri also realized, perhaps a bit too late, that his collar was still popped open. Claude’s bruise probably stood out like blood on snow; the pinkish purplish hue of it a stark contrast to Dimitri’s naturally light skin.

“We were just, uh…” Dimitri began.

“Discussing battle strategies,” Claude cut in, stepping to stand side-by-side with Dimitri.

“Yes, battle strategies,” Dimitri finished, feeling sweat begin to bead along his brow. “For, uh, next month’s mission, because...”

The Professor stopped Dimitri’s hasty explanation with a raise of their hand.

“No matter,” they said. The Professor then dropped the hand, instead shifting to cross their arms over their chest. “Just go to your dorms, and I won’t alert the other staff of your presence here.”

Dimitri and Claude looked at one another, defeated, then nodded reluctantly. They moved away from the window together, feeling scrutinized under the Professor’s deceptively emotionless stare.

As the three of them descended the stone stairs together, Dimitri could not help but start to smile idly. Sure, he and Claude had just been caught and scolded for breaking curfew by their most intimidating professor, but that didn’t make the memory of what they’d done in the tower any less exhilarating to Dimitri. With that, he also began to realize just how lucky they’d been; there could have been another couple in the tower before them, or, the door could’ve been locked tight in the first place. Just being able to kiss Claude once deemed a night successful to Dimitri, and he’d done just that and then some.

From his spot besides Dimitri, Claude noticed the blond’s little smile, and then raised a playfully arched eyebrow. Dimitri returned the eye contact and smiled even wider, feeling a childish giggle rumble in his chest. Claude then grinned in return, eyes crinkling, and bumped Dimitri’s hip with his own.

They looked foolish, like schoolchildren snickering about some secret that no one else knew about. In a way, they were just that; no one else but tonight’s goddesses saw them kiss under the stars. Dimitri could assume the Professor thought _something_ of what they walked in on, but Dimitri trusted his teacher enough not to make anything of it.

The Professor was unique that way; the gossip and rumors of day-to-day Garreg Mach hardly fazed the mercenary-turned-professor. If anything, they only seemed to care about fishing in the pond by the greenhouse, and Dimitri found he appreciated that nonchalance.

Soon enough, though, the trio made their way to the dorms’ upper-level entrance. The Professor turned to bid them goodnight, then began their short trek to their own room further down the dorms’ long and narrow courtyard.

Dimitri and Claude hiked the dorm’s stairs together, steps in perfect sync, save for a few stumbles accredited to the dim lighting of the dorm halls at night. They walked down the hall quietly, making sure the other noble students weren’t awakened by their booted footsteps. Once they reached Claude’s room just past the hall’s halfway point, Claude reached out and took Dimitri’s arm, spinning him around.

“Hey,” he whispered, voice soft enough to keep Garreg Mach’s lightest sleeper in bed. “Thanks for tonight. I know we don’t get to see each other all that much anymore, but, uh, it was really nice spending time with you.”

Dimitri smiled, feeling his eyebrows quirk upwards with fondness. He then lowered his voice to match the quiet of Claude’s, and slipped his arms around the brunet’s thin waist. “Of course, Claude. There is nowhere else in the world I would rather be than with you.”

Claude blushed, visible even in the barely-there moonlight. He shook his head and huffed a light chuckle, his own arms finding a home of their own on Dimitri’s shoulders. “You always say the sappiest things, Mitya. One of these days, you just might do me in with those flowery words of yours.”

“I only ever say what I mean,” Dimitri replied, lightly swaying Claude in his embrace. “You know that.”

“Yeah, I do. That’s my point.”

They stood there for a few moments longer, rocking gently and relishing in the comfort of one another for as long as they could. After all, Dimitri and Claude never really knew the next time they’d be able to touch and kiss like this. It was already difficult having to meet in absolute secret, especially considering they were in different classes with schedules and missions of their own. It could be days, weeks, or months, even.

Dimitri sighed softly, not wanting to let go. But it was already incredibly late in the night, and the heaviness of sleep was starting to descend upon his drooping eyelids.

Claude, sensing this, looked back up at Dimitri. “You look tired.”

The prince hummed, sadly nodding his head.

Claude chuckled gently, sleepiness also wearing down his own face. “Kiss me goodnight, then?”

Dimitri smiled, then slowly leaned in, closing his eyes. Claude met him halfway, their lips pressing chastely to one another. Even the softest, most mellow kisses like this never failed in setting Dimitri’s heart ablaze, and he felt the warmth of it all spread through every little nook and cranny of his body. He figured he’d never get used to it, really, the way Claude spun Dimitri’s whole world on its axis every time they touched. It was dizzying, electrifying, spectacular.

Dimitri gradually pulled away, then planted another kiss on Claude’s forehead. “Goodnight, Claude.”

“Goodnight, Dimitri,” Claude all but cooed, winking one of his alluring green eyes at Dimitri. He then turned around on his heel, curls bouncing with every step he took back to his room. Dimitri watched every step of the way, stared at Claude’s lithe form meander back around, memorized the way his golden cape glowed in the moonlight before it disappeared behind the wooden door.

And, as Dimitri trekked the short distance between his and Claude’s room, still reeling with the memory of Claude’s lips on his own, he came to a conclusion:

He would do anything, _anything_ , for his wish to come true.


End file.
